


merry christmas, ya filthy... bats

by wasted



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holidays, Jason-Centric, Snow, batfam, idk happy holidays ok!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted/pseuds/wasted
Summary: It's the holidays, and Jason's family are determined to invite him to their Christmas party. Jason, however, is determined not to go.





	1. i. dick grayson

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this super quickly bc christmas was getting closer and closer... so sorry if it sucks lmao
> 
> kinda fuzzy timeline where dick is nightwing, cass is batgirl and dami is robin

Jason Todd was lying on his back in an alleyway. That was all he was sure of - at the moment, anyway.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, the cold night air piercing his lungs as he took a deep breath. Jason’s whole body ached, a raw, deep ache he felt in his gut, numb and sore from the relentless cold.

With his head pounding, memories flooded back to him as he regained his senses. He'd been trailing a couple of crooks exploiting kids for the past few days - and had finally made the decision to confront them, which had consequently resulted in several heavy blows to his head with a pipe, lots of lead in lots of bad guys, and his current position on the floor of a dimly lit alley.

Jason's vision was blurry, as he blinked several times to focus on the floating things in the air. He glared up at the narrow gap between the two buildings, at the white snowflakes trailing down towards him. Jason extended out a gloved hand to catch one on his finger, before he realised what the fuck he was doing - which was lying in the snow surrounded by several dead men. His arm promptly fell down to his side.

“Oh, thank god,” a relieved voice breathed, punctually after his movement. “I thought you were  _ dead _ .” A black hand lined with blue stripes appeared in front of him - extremely close - expectantly hovering in the air.

“Wouldn't be the first time.” Jason muttered, swatting Dick’s hand away. There was no reply - and Jason wasn't sure whether Dick heard his comment, or whether he decided to ignore it. He heaved himself up, his shoulder shooting strikes of pain across his chest in protest.

Half of his view was pixelated, and he could feel a liquid trickling down his forehead, causing him to come to the conclusion that his helmet was cracked.  _ Shit _ , he thought.  _ Not another one. _

Once Jason straightened to his full height, Dick grinned.

“Having fun making snow angels, were you?”

“No, I was doing my job, actually.” Jason repositioned his jacket, brushing snow from the leather as he spun and began trudging through the snow. Dick fell into step with him. “What are  _ you  _ doing here, anyway?”

Dick pointed to a security camera towards the end of the alley, which presumably belonged to the Chinese takeaway they were beside. “Oracle saw you get knocked out. I came to see if you were alright.”

“Well, I’m alright.” Jason informed him dryly. He pursed his lips as they reached the street lamp, washed in the pool of orange glow the light casted on them. Admittedly, Jason was glad Dick was the one who was alerted of his unconsciousness, and not another black-clad figure belonging to the streets of Gotham. 

“How's your head?” Dick asked, pointing to the long crack in Jason's helmet.

Jason reached his hand up and traced the jagged edge with his finger. He hid the fact that it came away with blood. “I’m  _ fine _ .” He repeated with finality. Jason sighed. “Oracle didn't happen to see where the guy who knocked me out went, did she?”

“No,” Dick answered. He hooked a thumb behind him, adding: “Must’ve gone that way: out of the camera’s vision.”

“Great.” Jason remarked. “Well, tell her I said thanks.” He glanced up at the streetlight, then back to Dick. Snowflakes rested upon his hair. It was longer than Dick usually kept it, Jason noted. He repositioned his helmet on his head. “See you on the streets.” Dick gave a curt nod.

Jason made his way across the street, his hands tucked deep into his pockets. His teeth were chattering together, but he clenched them shut.

Gotham was coated in a thick sheet of snow. It had snowed for the past few days, and now a thick blanket enveloped the buildings and streets of the city. It was probably the best and worst winter Jason had experienced in Gotham.

Then, a foreign, light object shattered against Jason back, as a flurry of white showered Jason’s vision. He flew around.

“You're a dick.” Jason immediately declared, grinning behind his mask. He was met with another snowball to his chest. He cursed, running to cover behind a parked car. “This isn't fair! I'm concussed.”

He could hear Dick’s laughter filling the night air, drowning out the distant sirens. “Yeah, that's why you didn't get a snowball to the head.”

Jason chuckled lightly, a breezy, content noise he hadn’t made in a while. He shovelled balls of snow onto a large pile, and began blindly pelting them over the parked car.

Snow flew over Jason’s head, hitting into the wall behind him and the car in front. The remains of the snowballs were scattered over Jason’s shoulders and upon his helmet. Jason leapt up to his feet, snowballs in hand, and aimed them, one after the other, at an unsuspecting Nightwing attempting to forge several humongous snowballs.

He shouldn't be doing this, Jason knew. The Red Hood didn't have  _ snowball fights _ with people.  _ Jason _ didn't have snowball fights with people, and certainly not with his brother he'd been avoiding since the beginning of December. Jason sucked in a sharp breath, then looked down at his gloved hands covered in snow.  _ Fuck it _ , he thought.  _ Let loose. _

Snow flew over Jason's head. Only several snowballs actually made contact with any parts of his body, as neither of the two were using rather intelligent tactics. Despite this, Jason concluded that shouting “Your aim is shit!” might deter Dick a bit. Still, the sound of their laughter mingled together amongst the sirens and traffic of Gotham City was… comforting, really.

He wondered how this would look to any witnesses - The Red Hood and Nightwing battling it out in the form of a snowball fight. And they seemed to be  _ enjoying _ it.

Jason's previous wounds were now a mere spec in his mind, the dull ache in his cranium simply an afterthought as he continued trying to curve snowballs at Dick.

Jason lifted his head above the car, about to make a direct hit on Dick - just as a snowball came flying through the air and contacted with the side of his head. Dick gave a hoot of joy from across the street, his arms in the air with triumph.

“Oh, you're goin’ down, you fuck,” Jason promised under his breath, one side of his lip twitching upwards in a smirk.

Jason peered around the edge of the car, firmly grasping a snowball in his hand, as he spotted Dick advancing towards his cover with an armful of snow. A  _ lot  _ of snow.

He gathered his snowballs and rolled backwards, around the car. Jason could hear the light footsteps of an approaching Nightwing.  _ Stealthy, my ass,  _ Jason thought, as he rounded the vehicle.

Jason saw Dick in the same position as his, arms spread wide to carry the most snow as possible and crouched down as to not alert the other. They must've looked quite the sight - both men heaving huge piles of snow, in an attempt to dump them on the other. Jason held back a laugh, slowly moving towards him. Luckily, the quiet crunch of snow beneath his feet did not catch Dick’s attention.

Seeing his chance, Jason lunged forward.

“God damnit!” Dick grunted, his arms extended at his sides as he peered down at his chest, now covered in the snow Jason had dumped. He began shaking his head, much like a dog - to Jason's amusement, as large chunks of snow flew to the ground. He turned around.

“That's what you get for challenging a master of the snowball arts.” Jason said, even if he could count the amount of snowball fights he'd had on one hand.

Snow stop rested upon Dicks shoulders, so Jason, reluctantly, brushed some off with the tips of his fingers.

“Thanks,” Dick said, a light grin on his lips. “You put up a good fight.”

Jason barked out a laugh. “I think I was the only one putting any fight in at all.”

Dick scoffed, bracing his hands in the bonnet of the car to lift himself up. “This was fun, little wing.”

Jason had expected that nickname coming tonight. In fact, he'd be surprised if Dick didn't refer to Jason as it at least once amongst the whole snowball ordeal. Still, it caught him off guard. Still, he found his words getting caught in his throat, and his chest seemingly feeling tighter.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “It was.”

Jason looked around, at the foot prints they'd created in the snow, and the light fall of snowflakes drifting to the floor. It was true - this was the most fun Jason had had in awhile.

“Y’know,” Dick began, shifting his weight, “B wanted to know if you'd want to come over sometime. For Christmas.”

Jason exhaled deeply, as he pursed his lips. He looked up at the night sky, despite his pixelated view in one eye. “So that's why this happened.” He said, gesturing with one finger between the both of them. “We have a little fun - like the good ol’ days - and then maybe I'd want to play happy families again.”

A small part of Jason wished it was that easy.

Dick shook his head. “No - that's not true at all. You know that. I just thought -”

“You thought wrong,” Jason interrupted, his head shaking slightly. Something struck in his chest with every word. He could suddenly feel the cold air from his fingertips to his toes. He felt  _ numb _ .

“Goodnight, Dick.” Jason said coldly. He turned and walked away.


	2. ii. barbara gordon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn't know you were into all this… Christmas stuff.”  
> “Who isn't?”  
> Barbara pulled a face.  
> 

Jason Todd is an incredibly Christmas-y guy. In fact, last year, his Christmas tree had went up two days  _ before _ December. However, things were  _ very _ different this year.

Jason had tried to decorate his apartment as best as he could - with all the decorations and stuff he'd bought last year with Roy - but the majority of it was broken, missing or covered in blood.

For some reason, this year, he just wasn't feeling it. Admittedly, he'd only celebrated the holidays  _ properly _ a few number of times. Jason could vaguely remember several Christmas experiences over the time - like receiving a couple of gifts from his Mom and a ton from Bruce. 

Anyway, Jason’s lack of Christmas spirit this year was why he was currently standing in the nearby Walmart, holding two snow globes and contemplating which one to buy. He'd decided he actually wanted to decorate his home this Christmas.

How  _ did _ one buy the best snow globe? He examined the two. One had a small igloo inside, with pink and green glittery shit that floated about when you shook it. The other contained a small icy village with a backdrop of the northern lights, with simple white bits that drifted about. It was a  _ really _ difficult decision.

“Uh, sir? Do you need any help?”

Jason looked up and glanced to his left, spotting an employee watching him with concern. He looked back at the snow globes in his hands, then shook his head. “No. No, I'm good.”

“Oh. It's just that - you've been staring at those snow globes for the past three minutes.”

Jason gulped. “Right.” He swiftly placed the globes back on the shelf, his cheeks tinged red. 

So what? He was inexperienced in doing ... all  _ this  _ alone.

Despite the early hour, the store was filled with busy, bustling customers - eager shoppers searching for late Christmas gifts. Baubles hung from the aisles, along with tinsel, fairy lights and other festive banners. Cheesy Christmas music played on the speakers.

Jason drifted down the aisles, not looking for anything in particular. He came to racks and racks of festive clothes, displaying various texts and images about the holidays. It was rather overwhelming, really. Jason brushed a sweater out of his way with his finger, peering at the text. It presented a simple  _ Merry Fucking Christmas  _ with a bunch of reindeers. It was perfect, really.

Jason peered up at the other customers, each clutching several jumpers and holding them against their bodies to test the size. Experimentally, he did the same with the sweater he had discovered - y’know, to look like he was actually there to buy Christmas stuff.

“Jason?”

Jason spun around, searching for the voice among the racks.  _ Who the fuck? _

“I'm right here,” came a frustrated reply, just as Jason spun back around. He spotted just opposite him, hidden behind the racks of sweaters and sweaters and more sweaters, an array of red hair.

“Oh.” Jason said, smiling faintly. “Didn't see you… down there.”

Barbara pressed her lips together, as she appeared beside him, sending a look of exasperation towards Jason. She didn't look much different since the last time he'd seen her, which was quite a while ago. However, he'd heard her in his ear more than enough times to make up for that. She'd kept her red hair short, and she had the same thin glasses perched on her nose. “I didn't know you were into all this… Christmas stuff.”

“Who isn't?”

Barbara pulled a face.

“You don't like  _ Christmas _ ?”

She laughed. “No, no, I do. It just gets a little… annoying sometimes.”

“I can't relate.” Jason said. Even as a kid, Jason had loved Christmas. Sure, Catherine never had enough money to get him the things he  _ really _ wanted, but he still looked forward to running to their little tree and spending a whole day with his Mom. Just the two of them.

“Nice sweater.” Babs remarked, pointing to the red fabric he still had pressed to his chest. 

Jason lowered the sweater in a flustered manner, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “ _ Yeah _ . So,  _ uh _ ,” Jason started, quick to change the subject, “what're you doing here?”

“Same as you, I  _ think _ .” Barbara answered. “I'm looking for the most vulgar Christmas sweater I can find.”

Jason suppressed a smile. He looked down, at his sweater. “I think we found a winner.” He informed her, brandishing the sweater he'd found in front of her.

“ _ We _ ?” Barbara repeated, tilting her head with a sly smile. “That's  _ my  _ sweater.”

“Really? I don't think s-”

“I'm not afraid to run you over with this, Jason.” Barbara said bluntly, all with a smile on her face. She gripped the wheels of her chair.

“Okay, okay.” Jason said, with a full grin this time, as he handed the sweater to her in defeat. “You should've gone for one with the  _ Grinch  _ on it.

“Ha, ha.” Barbara deadpanned, pressing the sweater across her lap.

“Hey,” Jason said, shoving several sweaters out of the way to brandish a new blue one, “look at this one.” It displayed Santa walking wearing sunglasses with an explosion in the background. “Kinda reminds me of that time I died.”

Barbara sighed.

“What d’you need a Christmas sweater for anyway?” Jason asked, following beside Barbara as she began her journey to another aisle. “Having a party at the clocktower, Babs?”

Barbara answered, “No.” She brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It's… It’s Bruce's idea. To have a little get together for the Holidays.”

“Like a  _ normal _ family?” Jason offered, his hands balled into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Like that.” Barbara confirmed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You should come, Jason, - it'll be fun.”

“I'll have to pass.” Jason replied quickly. “Plus, I already said no to Dickie’s invitation.”

Barbara nodded. “Yeah; he told me.”

Jason walked along, his hands feeling like they were on fire in his pockets. God, he suddenly  _ really _ needed a cig. “You two together again?”

Barbara shrugged. “It's… complicated.” 

Jason laughed lightly.

She stopped and looked up at him, her lips thin. “How've you been, Jason?”

“Well, I've been trailing a couple of guys for the past few days and -”

“No,” Barbara began. “I didn't ask how the  _ hood _ was.”

Jason couldn’t help but smile. “I've been doing… good.”

Babs looked down at her lap with a nod. “I'd better go pay for this,” she concluded, gesturing to the sweater in her lap. 

Jason tipped his chin. He'd better get going, too. Looks like he would leave empty handed. 

“If you change your mind about the party thing - you know you're more than welcome to come.” She added, just as she maneuvered to face the other way.

_ I know that more than you know, Babs,  _ Jason replied in his head. Verbally, he simply said: “See you around.”

“Yeah.” Barbara said, beaming up at him. Her smile masked her true emotions. “See you around.” 

Jason supposed that's how everyone else's masks’ worked in their little family.

Reluctantly, Jason peered in the other direction, back at the impressive amount of festive sweaters. Maybe he'd end up buying one, after all.


	3. iii. stephanie brown and cassandra cain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three birds on a wall. Or, at least, a rooftop.

Four bullets to the chest are, usually, enough to put a guy down for good - but not this guy. No, not this guy. This guy, much to Jason Todd’s luck, had simply emitted a bellowing roar and charged at him once again. The brute, a humongous block of meat which towered above Jason even with his crumpled state, swayed on his feet as he turned on his thick heels and gathered his balance. Dilated pupils flickered, bloodied fists clenched, and the man was, somehow, ready to lunge at Jason again.

“Come on, big guy.” Jason urged, rolling his shoulders. He was reduced to his domino mask, as his helmet was discarded on the floor - after being whacked off after a heavy blow to the head. One more hit like that, and Jason was probably gonna wake up lying in the snow  _ another _ night this week.

The brute swung right, and Jason instinctively lurched left. Snow flew upwards in the air. He skidded on the snow beneath his feet and then he was flying through the air - until he landed with a thud on the cold ground. One of his two guns clattered on the snow beside him and - to Jason's horror - slid across the icy roof. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Jason spat, wiping sweat from his forehead. He raised his only gun, ready to shoot, as the man approached him with heavy footsteps.

Jason blinked once, his finger resting on the trigger - but the man was gone when they opened.

With a frown, Jason braced himself up with his elbows as he looked around. Several grunts sounded, along with a heavy thud as the rooftop shook under immense weight. He spotted a small figure looming above the heap of the man Jason had been fighting.

“You alright, hood?”

Jason's head spun to his right, and he came face to face with a purple mask.

“ _ What? _ ”

“Are. You. Alright?” The mask repeated slowly. 

Jason blinked. “‘Course I am.” He answered. “Takes a lot more than a drugged up giant to take me down.” 

Stephanie nodded. She looked to the figure, who was now knelt beside the man. 

“Still breathing.” The figure said, as if answering a question. They rose, and slowly made their way other to the two on the floor.

“Hey, Cass.”

“Hi.” She replied. Quiet as always, she gave Jason a wave.

“Thanks for the help, but I really didn't need it.” Jason told them, heaving himself up. “I had it under control.”

“Shut  _ up _ .” scoffed Stephanie.

* * *

Jason knew himself that he enjoyed Cass and Steph’s company.

Fortunately, they didn't know him before he died. They weren't quick to judge. Therefore, he had no expectations to meet for them. He didn't have to feel like he was letting them down when he didn't act the way they would've remembered.

Plus, Batgirl and Spoiler had saved his ass more times than enough, so they had a  _ lot  _ of bonding time between them.

“You guys mind if I smoke?” Jason asked, already pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket.

“Go ahead.” Cass replied. Her leather mask lay crumpled in her lap, and her legs dangled off the edge of the rooftop beside Jason's own. Steph sat on the other side of Cass, legs crossed with her chin rested on Cass’ shoulder.

Stephanie was tired, Jason could tell. Dark rings circled her eyes, and harsh, purple bruises were beginning to appear at her temple and cheekbone.

Jason lit his cigarette. He offered them both one, but only Cass accepted.

Gotham was pretty in the snow. The contrast was nice, Jason found. The stark white snow against black blocks of buildings towering in the sky. It pleased him. Jason watched the skyline as he lowered his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the glowing light in the sky from across the city.

“The Bat is out tonight.” Jason stated. “Think he'll need backup?” He looked back and forth from the two girls.

“Yes.” came Steph’s immediate and definite reply.

Jason laughed. The old man was getting… well, old.

“He has Robin.” Cass assured herself, watching the light in the sky. The smoke from the cigarette tucked between her fingers mingled with her vision.

Jason took a long drag, then.  _ Sure _ , Jason thought.  _ Batman  _ always _ has Robin. What about the other way around? _

“You doing anything for the holidays, Jason?” Stephanie asked, trailing her finger through the snow to create a small bat symbol.

Jason blew out smoke from his mouth, then looked at Steph. “I swear to fucking god, if you ask me to go to that stupid Christmas thing B is having, I'm leaving.”

Cass barked out a laugh. “Barbara and Dick told us what happened.”

Jason made a hum of amusement. He looked back to Steph. “Well, I thought I'd just kick back for Christmas. Y’know, kill a couple guys under the mistletoe.”

“We would like you to be there,” Cass said quietly. “It’d be boring, otherwise.” Steph nodded, smiling faintly.

He inhaled. Jason flicked ash from his cigarette, and followed the glowing embers drift to the ground. “Well, kids. I'm awfully bored.” He sighed, aching to change the subject, whilst leaning back on his elbows.

Stephanie tilted her head, her blonde hair falling from her shoulders. “‘Kay, let's do something, then.”

“Like what?” Jason asked, looking up at the sky. It had stopped snowing, for once.

Cass twisted her lips in thought. “Rooftop tag?” She offered, beaming at the two. Steph looked to Jason, waiting.

“ _ Fine _ ,” he approved. He looked to Cass, his index finger extended towards her. “But if you do that crazy kick flip shit you pulled last time, I automatically win.”

Cass nodded, a bright grin on her face as she stuffed her cigarette into the snow on the tiles. She flew from the spot on the roof, already distancing herself from the two.

“Wait, wait,” Stephanie said, crawling into her ankles, crouched low. “Who's starting?”

“ _ You _ are, blondie!” Yelled Jason, prodding Steph’s shoulder so she toppled backwards, lying on the roof. With a huff, she threw herself from the floor.

“You're gonna pay for that,  _ zombie _ boy wonder.”


	4. iv. tim drake

A flurry of snow blinded Jason's vision. It was snowing so bad that Jason had had to  _ walk _ to this stupid little coffee shop in the outskirts of Gotham. He'd received intel from Oracle that the crooks who'd knocked him out a few nights ago would be meeting here to discuss a shipment coming in from South America. Now, Jason usually wasn't one to judge where criminals chose to secretly meet up, but he was pretty sure they could've chose somewhere better than a tiny diner that smelt of burnt coffee grounds and cigarettes.

He'd been here once before - and that brief visit was enough to decide that he was never coming here again. Their coffee tasted like shit.

Jason sat himself in a discreet booth. He repositioned his earpiece - his only form of communication with Oracle due to his civvy clothes.

The place was pretty empty, and the two guys Jason was supposed to be intercepting weren't arriving til 9:30.

A blonde waitress with dark red lipstick made her way to Jason's booth. “You need anything, sweetie?”

“No,” Jason said sweetly. “I'm good, thanks.”

She braced her arm on the table and looked out the window. “This weather just ain't lettin’ up. Hasn't been this bad for years.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“What, you from out of town?”

“Something like that,” Jason said.  _ Yeah _ , Jason imagined himself replying.  _ I was kinda dead for a while. _

He pulled back the sleeve of his sweater - not leather, because that'd be  _ too _ obvious - and glanced at his watch. It was old and only worked half the time, but Kori had gotten it for him from some old antique shop last Christmas, and she’d been too excited about it for Jason to just  _ not _ wear it.

Jason still had another 15 minutes before the guys met, so he leaned back in his seat and relaxed. Snow continued to rocket to the ground, moving sideways due to the heavy winds. In the distance, he spotted a dark figure moving towards the street, a black scarf flapping frantically in the harsh winds.

The door to the diner opened with a joyful chime. Someone wearing a huge, puffy red jacket, a winter bobble hat and a thick black scarf flew into the diner, and attempted to shake off the snow that was caked to their left side. The stranger removed their hat, leaving their hair sticking up in a wild manner.

Jason held back a laugh.

“You want the usual, sweetie?” The same waitress asked from where she sat on the barstool, sucking on her pen.

“Uh, yes, please.” Tim Drake replied, stripping his huge coat from his body. He patted down his hair consciously, with his free hand.

Jason grinned as Tim attempted to hold all of his items: his coat, his hat and scarf all under one arm. He turned to sit down.

“Are you going on an expedition?”

Tim looked up in confusion. “What?”

“An expedition. Y’know, to the Arctic or somewhere.” Jason clarified, leaning to the side of the booth with a toothy grin.

Tim peered at his winter clothes, then back to Jason. “Sorry for dressing appropriately for the winter.” He said flatly. Tim looked down at the booth he was nearest, then back to the booth Jason was seated in again. He made a quick decision, then went and dumped his coat into the couch opposite Jason. “Some people actually feel the cold - and can't go out wearing nothing but a jacket.”

Jason shrugged. “It feels like a summer's day.”

“Sure,” Tim nodded, rubbing his hands together. “So, what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, the usual. Hero stuff.” Jason made several vague hand gestures. “I was waiting for a couple of criminals to show - until the abominable snowman decided to turn up. What brings  _ you _ here?”

“I come here everyday. For coffee.”

“Why?” Jason asked, his upper lip curled slightly in disgust. “This place is shit, and their coffee sucks.”

Tim pulled a face. “Are you kidding? They make the  _ best _ coffee in the city, are open 24 hours and don't ask any questions when you arrive at 3 am covered in blood with a need for caffeine.”

The older of the two shrugged with nonchalance. He peered down at his watch again. About 12 minutes.

The kid was tired. Tim had bags under his eyes, and every time he blinked it became harder for him to open them. Jason wasn't surprised.

The two had their differences - which was expected, since Jason had kinda tried to kill Tim the first time they met. That was past them, Jason hoped, although they  _ could _ try to spend more time together.

The waitress from earlier eventually came to their table, now chewing gum, holding a huge jug of coffee. She began to pour it into Tim's cup.

The waitress looked to Jason. “You sure you don't want anythin’? Not even any coffee?”

“Positive.” He said, smiling curtly.

Tim shook his head, already lifting his drink to his lips. Jason watched the steam rise. “You're missing out. This,” Tim said, pointing to his cup, “tastes amazing. You know, they don't add all that fluffy creamy stuff. Just good old coffee.”

Jason wouldn't know. Jason hated coffee. Or, at least, Jason hated the coffee  _ Tim _ drank. He nodded nonetheless.

“You been getting much sleep lately?” Jason asked, as Tim rubbed his eyes groggily.  _ Hey _ , sometimes Jason  _ liked _ to play the role of the concerned older brother when Dick wasn't around. 

“Not really,” Tim replied, his chin resting in his palm as he looked down at his coffee. “Been spending a few nights at the Cave.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Tim scoffed.

Jason heard static in his ear, then, “They’re having a rain check.” Oracle’s voice informed Jason in his ear. 

“What?” He asked.

“ _ What? _ ” Tim mirrored in repeat, frowning.

“I intercepted a phone call. The men you're after - they're meeting somewhere else, on another date. The lighting of the tree at the plaza, on the 24th.” Oracle clarified.

Jason groaned, leaning back in his seat and pinching the back of his nose. “ _ Great _ .”

“Either you’re hearing voices, or that was Barbara.”

“Yup,” Jason breathed. “That was Babs.”

Tim smiled. “Bad news?”

With a nod in response, Jason looked down at his watch around his tanned wrist. He supposed he wasn't waiting for anyone, any more.

He waved the waitress from earlier back over. “You know, I think I might actually have that coffee.”


	5. v. damian wayne

It was Christmas Eve.

Jason had just successfully taken out the guys he’d been zoning in on for the past few days. He’d taken his time - wanting to see if this case opened up any uprising, potentially dangerous threats associated with the crooks - then he’d struck. They were currently being disposed off, as Jason sat on a rooftop, where he usually found himself after a long night, with the cold breeze rustling his hair. Admittedly, he’d taken a  _ lot  _ of painkillers.

He had a perfect view of the plaza, where a tall Christmas tree stood in the centre, surrounded by many citizens of Gotham, rich and poor alike. Lights hung from building to building, illuminating the crowded square with a cheery glow.

Jason was sure he wouldn’t be spotted all the way up here, so he retrieved a cigarette from his jacket pocket, along with his lighter. He flicked the metal box open with his finger.

A shuffle, along with the rustle of a long fabric, landed behind Jason. It was an incredibly quiet sound, and Jason only heard it because of the complete silence that had fallen over Gotham whilst waiting for the tree lighting.

“Hello, brat,” Jason greeted the newcomer, with a cigarette between his teeth.

“You shouldn’t smoke. That can kill you.”

Jason lit the cigarette. “I know.”

Damian came to stand to the side of Jason, just behind him. His cape billowed in the light wind of the night, and was dramatic enough to put a smile on Jason’s face. “Where’s the Bat?” He asked, peering up at Damian, even if he was only a little bit taller than Jason when he was sitting down. The kid was tiny. But then again, so was Jason at around that age.

“Down there,” Damian replied, pointing a green finger to the plaza. Jason squinted as he followed Damian’s line of sight, until he saw a cheerful Bruce Wayne standing on the stage by the mic.

“Weren’t you invited, too?”

“Yes, but I told Father that the ceremonial lighting of a fake tree was pointless. It seems like my resistance was in vain.” Damian replied, scowling down at the square. “Drake is somewhere down there, too.”

“I'm surprised Bruce even let you out alone tonight.”

“He didn't.” Replied Damian smugly.

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “You see any threats down there?”

Damian paused, frowning, before finally scanning the crowd and the surrounding roofs. “No.”

“Then take a seat, kid.” Jason said, patting the light snow beside him.

Damian looked down to where Jason had gestured to, a usual scowl on his face. He hesitantly lowered to the ground, then sat on his knees.

Jason looked at the kid with his head tilted in bewilderment. “Nah, nah, nah. You gotta relax, not sit all stiff and shit. Don’t make it weird.”

“You already made it weird, Todd,” Damian grumbled quietly, repositioning himself so his legs dangled off the edge of the building.

Jason looked down towards the crowd. It looked like they were about the light the tree, and somehow, it became even more silent than before. 

The two birds watched Bruce's figure move to the side of the stage and interact with the bright podium, as the tree lit up with an array of red, pink and blue decorations. The crowd whooped.

“Tt. That was pathetic.” Damian snorted.

Jason grinned. “That’s Gotham for you.” He looked down at his watch.

Earlier, he’d spent Nochebuena at his neighbor’s house. It’d been awhile since he’d celebrated Christmas like he used to - the latest time being with Bruce, before Ethiopia. Alfred had cooked all day - many of the meals being recipes recommended by Jason, and then they’d dined like kings. His neighbours had a bunch of kids, who each thoroughly enjoyed attempting to wrestle Jason on their couch.

“You're all having that big Christmas thing tomorrow at the manor, aren't you?”

Damian nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “Who are  _ you _ spending Christmas with this year?”

Jason shrugged. “Just me, I guess.” 

Roy was out of town, doing stuff with the Titans and whatnot. Jason hadn't spoken to Kori in a while either, and he figured she had more important plans than spending Christmas with him. 

Great. All  _ two _ of Jason's friends were occupied.

“I'm not going to even bother trying to invite you to come.” Damian said. “I've heard enough from the others.”

With a laugh, Jason nodded. 

“Father wants you to come, though.” Damian added, almost hesitantly. He was fiddling with the helm of his cape in his lap.

“I’m sure he does.”

A low murmur had settled among the crowd. Jason looked down with curiosity. They began singing.  _ Singing _ .

“Oh.” Damian said, his cowl raised in alarm as he watched his father swaying to the song.

“Wow.” Jason said with equal surprise. 

The crowd continued singing, their united voices ringing out through the streets of Gotham, amongst the sirens, traffic and occasional whistles of trains.

“Merry Christmas, kid.” Jason said, patting Damian’s shoulder lightly. He knew not to leave it there for long - and punctually used it to stuff his cigarette into the snow. Jason looked back to the crowd.

“This is a good song,” Jason managed to say with a straight face. He could vaguely recognize it.

Damian glared at Jason, then coldly said; “If you start singing, I’ll kill you.” 


	6. xi. bruce wayne and alfred pennyworth

Jason hasn't been here in awhile.

He'd just been around his neighborhood, delivering all the presents he'd bought for the street kids he knew - all with a Santa hat on his helmet. Before that, he’d watched the tree lighting with Robin.

Now, he felt kind of lost.

The drive way was clear of snow, where Jason's motorbike was now sat. He presumed Bruce had hired someone to clear the snow, since he couldn't imagine Alfred shovelling the ton of snow that would have piled up at his age.

He was holding a large sack over his shoulder as he stood awkwardly at the doorway, questioning whether he should knock or just leave the bag without any confrontations.

He had, for Bruce's sake, removed his helmet. You could never know when the paparazzi would strike when you were in the area of a Wayne. He felt bare and exposed.

With a deep breath, Jason threw all formality out the window, and opened the door.

“And you sent out all the cards? Remembered the Happy Hannukah one to send to Kate?” Bruce asked from the lounge.

“Yes, Master Bruce.” Came Alfred’s reply. “My memory is not as bad as yours, yet.”

Jason walked into the lounge, feeling a pang of guilt for leading a trail of snow through the doorway. “Hello, kids.” He called, his sack slung over his shoulder. “Santa came a little early this night.”

“Jason?” Bruce said, spinning around on the ladders he was standing on. Tinsel hung from the ceiling, along with bright fairy lights and festive banners. A bright, elegant, golden tree sat in the corner, surrounded by huge gifts.

“Yeah, yeah, hi everyone.” Jason said, waving to the three in the room. Damian didn't look up from the book in his lap. He must have got in early from his lone patrol.  “Thought I'd drop these presents off - rather than interrupting that thing you've got going on tomorrow, which I've heard _very_ good things about, by the way.”

He dropped the sac by the tree, stopping to examine the decorations. When it was Jason's first Christmas at the manor, he and Bruce had created a homemade decoration, made of sticks and bits of fluff - and other shit like that. He could see his near the top, hanging amongst other ones he'd seen signed. A red, wooden star covered in glitter for Dick, a green bauble decorated with intricate Arabic text with Damian’s scrawl on the side, amongst other bright, personal decorations. Even Steph had one. Jason breathed out softly, and pretended not to look at his for too long.

“A cookie, Master Jason?” Alfred asked, presenting a tray of food by his side. Jason promptly took a green star, and offered a mumbled thanks.

“Nicely decorated.”

“You can thank Master Damian for that,” Alfred said, smiling faintly.

Damian looked up from his book, the tops of his ears tinged with red. “It was Pennyworth’s idea.” He defended.

Bruce had climbed down from the step ladders, and was now beside the fireplace. “You know, we start opening all the presents tomorrow at 9am. There’s some for you under there,” Bruce said, pointing to the tree. Jason followed his finger, then pursed his lips.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Jason said, always quick to change the subject, whilst moving towards the large hall where the exit was. “Oh - and Damian? Don’t open your present in front of Bruce. He’ll probably take them off you.”

“What?” Bruce immediately said, voicing his protest as he frowned at his two sons. Damian grinned toothily, as Jason sped his way out of the manor before Bruce could ask any questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is super short but i was rly eager to start the next chapter,, so can u rly blame me


	7. vvi. the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gives in and goes to the family get-together at the Manor, despite how stupid it sounds. Chaos ensues.

It’s 9:34 am. 

This time, Jason decides to knock. 

Alfred is promptly at the door, and he is welcomed into the manor with a fond greeting. Jason sheepishly walks in, his hands stuffed in his jacket. It’s zipped up all the way.

“Where is everyone?” Jason asks, his voice low, as he spots the mountain of presents still beneath the Christmas tree.

“Apart from Master Damian and Cassandra, everyone is asleep.” Alfred replies, leading Jason to the kitchen. It’s true - Damian is fiddling with an Ipad at the kitchen island, and Cass is sitting on the counter, eating a piece of toast. Barbara was flipping through a newspaper. Cass looks up when Jason enters the room, and immediately tosses her toast onto her plate and leaps from the counter. Somehow, Cass manages to cross the room in a matter of seconds, and then has her arms wrapped around Jason’s waist in a hug.

“You came!” She exclaimed into his chest. Cass looked up at Jason, her arms still somehow enveloping him in a hug, with a bright grin. Jason hugged her back, smiling. Cass stepped away, and went back to finishing her toast.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I mean, after all those texts you sent me about how you’re gonna break my legs if I didn’t turn up, I was kinda fearing for my life.”

“Tt.” Jason heard Damian sound, without tearing his eyes from his tablet. “It’s okay, Todd. You don’t have to make up any excuses for wanting to be here.”

Jason shook his head, but didn’t open his mouth to defend himself.

“You are more than welcome to go and wake everyone up. Master Richard stayed the night, too.” Alfred told them as he busied himself about the kitchen, presumably beginning to make breakfast for the sleeping. He offered Barbara a cup of coffee, and she thanked him and took a sip.

Jason looked to Cassandra. “Alright, I’ll wake ‘em up. You coming?” 

She nodded, and followed after Jason. 

* * *

It felt weird - walking up these stairs again. Jason hadn’t been here in so long, and seeing everything again was mildly overwhelming. As usual, not a spec of dust had settled on the banisters.

As Jason got to the stop of the large, curved stairs, he peered at the closed door at the other end of the hallway.  _ His  _ room.

Cass paused in understanding, patiently leaning against the wall next to, what Jason guessed was, Tim’s room.

Jason looked to Cass, as she examined him with her calculative eyes. “I’ll be there in a sec, okay?”

Cass smiled, and Jason made his way to his old room.

Nothing had changed. Sure, there were different sheets, but as far as Jason could tell, none of his belongings had been touched. They weren’t dusty - which Jason wasn’t surprised by - and all of his things from  _ before  _ were still on show. His old football, his Mom’s favourite snow globe, his tin of Garbage Pail Kids cards - each of them triggering an old memory in Jason’s mind.

A faint, relaxed smile rested on Jason’s lips as he looked around the room.

_ “And this whole room is mine? All of it? It’s so big!”  _ A voice said in Jason’s mind, as he walked over to the window and looked out into the vast, snow-covered yard and at the white shrubbery. He remembered leaping onto the huge bed and beaming at Bruce at the door.

Jason knew that coming here with result in an inevitable run-in with Bruce. Quite frankly, it was fucking Christmas, and Jason didn't give a shit what Bruce thought of his presence at the manor. He wasn't here for him. He was here for his siblings.

Subconsciously, Jason turned around and glanced at the empty doorway, until Cass’ head popped around the corner. “You coming?” She asked, her hands gripping the frame.

“What ever happened to ‘early bird gets the worm’?” Jason asked, as Cass flung open the blinds. Dick groaned, shuffling deeper into his duvet. He paused.

“Wait,” he said, slowly uncovering his face. “Jay? You’re here?”

“Yeah. You’d better wake up before I leave, ‘cause I’m getting pretty bored.”

Dick immediately flew from the bed, his covers flinging from the mattress along with him. His hair was all tousled, messily sticking up at odd angles. “I knew you’d come.” He said, gleaming. 

“I had nothing better to do,” Jason shrugged. It was partially true. He’d woken up with a sense of loneliness - and then, after some internal struggling, he was at the manor.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Dick said as he crawled out of the bed, and pulled on a grey sweater.

_ Me too _ , Jason thought.

* * *

 

“Damian, your cookie’s broken.”

“Actually, Grayson, my cookie is just accurate.” Damian immediately replied, splattering red icing over his oddly shaped man. “It’s Drake, when he broke his arm.”

“It didn’t  _ fall off _ ,” Tim said, frowning at Damian’s cookie. 

Damian chomped on the piece of arm he’d snapped off his gingerbread man. “Unfortunately.”

Bruce smiled into his coffee - freshly made from Alfred - as he leaned against the counter, watching everyone fighting over icing and bits of chocolate.

The kitchen was hectic. Jason was squished in between Barbara and Steph, who each frequently invaded Jason’s personal space with their intruding elbows. His workspace was covered in black, green and purple, and none of the mess had come from him. Stephanie was a particularly violent decorator.

It was almost as if Jason hadn’t tried to avoid everyone in this room the past year. A part of him hated how quickly they’d accepted him into their home again, because for  _ fuck’s sake _ , he didn’t deserve that, but another part of him, a bigger part, was extremely glad how forgiving they were. 

Everyone was wearing an equally hideous Christmas sweater. In Jason’s opinion, Barbara’s was the best - but that was only because he was the one who had chosen it for her. Tim had a red sweater with ‘Don’t put me at the kid’s table’ on, which only made him look younger due to its bagginess.

“Jesus, Dami. You’re gonna crack one of my ribs if you keep elbowing me like that,”

“It’s Drake’s fault.” Damian replied to Dick. He didn’t elaborate on why it was Tim’s fault exactly, which made several occupants of the room laugh.

As all the people in the room were wearing their own Christmas sweaters (even Alfred, with his skiing reindeer) Jason began unzipping his jacket. He'd come prepared. Stephanie gave playful hoots as he peeled the jacket off, revealing his sweater. It displayed an explosion behind a walking Santa, adorning sunglasses. Barbara laughed from beside him.

“I’ve gotta say - I’m pretty sure mine’s the best.” Stephanie proclaimed, presenting her purple blob (which she claimed to be herself, as Spoiler,) to the group.

“ _ Bull _ -shit!” Jason exclaimed, swatting Steph’s arm out of his face.

“Language,” Bruce instinctively called, eyeing Jason from across the room. 

With a grin, Jason said; “It’s pretty clear  _ mine’s  _ the best.” He held up a tiny Red Hood - it’d been greatly inspired by Steph’s Spoiler. “I even made a little gun to go with it,” he added, holding up a small silver triangle. In all honesty, he was very proud of it. “He’s like my son, and he’s better than all of yours.”

“You’re mistaken, Todd.” Damian inputted. “Mine is clearly the most precise,” He said, holding up his damaged Red Robin.

Dick opened his mouth to protest, but Cass spoke before him. “What about mine?” She asked, peering down at her little gingerbread Batman. It had a long cape, and huge pointy ears. Everyone paused to examine Cass’ in silence.

Dick exhaled through his nose. “Cass’ is the best.”

“Yup.”

“Agreed.”

Bruce walked forward, towards Cassandra to see the cookie for himself. He nodded, impressed. “Hers’ is the best,” He clarified. Cass smiled at the others, and no one bothered to protest. She was wearing a yellow, woolen sweater with colorful Christmas lights embedded across her chest, and her grin made her look even more cheery than usual.

Stephanie nudged an elbow into Jason’s side. “Mine’s  _ second  _ best,” she whispered.

“Sorry I'm late,” a woman's voice called, as the front door closed.

“We’re in the kitchen!” Bruce yelled, as the click of heels approached the room. Jason's head spun around, as a short haired women wearing a black pantsuit entered the kitchen.

“Hey, Selina,” Cass called, waving at the older woman. Selina greeted her back, with Bruce's arm around her shoulders. Jason raised his eyebrows at the intimacy, then he leaned down to Stephanie’s level.

“You didn't tell me Bruce was dating,” he whispered, as a low murmur settled in the kitchen.

Stephanie shrugged. “They've been together for awhile now.” 

Jason nodded. He looked across the table, at Dick, who was currently yanking a leaf from his pocket. He began his way over to Barbara with a smile.

Of course. Mistletoe.

He lifted it above their heads, as he leaned down with his elbow on the table. Dick puckered his lips, and Damian groaned.

“Are you expecting something?” Barbara asked, tilting her head.

Dick wordlessly wiggled the mistletoe, dangling it from his fingers. Barbara smiled, and planted a small kiss on Dick’s cheek.

“Hey, could I borrow that later?” Stephanie asked Dick. She proceeded to wink at Cass. Cassandra blushed and grinned back at the blonde.

“Now that Miss Selina is here, I suppose I should begin with the waffles?” Alfred asked, opening their large fridge.

Stephanie whooped with joy.

“Count me out,” Tim immediately said, placing his decorated Robin cookie on the tray, before hurrying out the room.

“Me, too.” Jason added, rushing after Tim. 

Alfred was the best cook Jason knew, but his waffles were fucking awful.

* * *

 

“O’ Christmas tree, o’ Christmas tr-”

“Don’t you start.” Bruce interrupted, pointing a finger at Dick, as he leant on the couch beside Tim. Everyone was gathered in the living room by the tree - and Jason guessed that they looked like the poster family for Christmas celebrations.

Dick pressed his lips together. He looked away, then began with, “You’re a mean one, Mr Grinch,”

He was immediately met with a collective groan, along with a, “Shut the fuck up!”

Soon, all nine (Barbara had gone home with her presents - she’d wanted to spend the rest of Christmas with her father) were surrounded by torn wrapping paper, cardboard boxes, and unopened presents. 

Jason had bought everyone a gift - hell, even  _ Bruce.  _ Surprisingly, he'd actually received one from everyone, too.

“If you didn't turn up, I was gonna ‘em off at your nearest safe house.” Dick told Jason, gesturing to the boxes around him.

Titus was stretched out by the fire, his large head resting next to Damian's leg. Every so often, Damian would give a light pat to his pet.

Damian ripped into his last gift. Jason watched with anticipation, as Damian’s eyebrows raised in awe. He presented a large, curved Dao, with a wide smile. In the box, also sat a jagged dagger.

“ _ Damian _ .” Bruce said, somehow managing to possess his voice with a warning, a scolding and a threat all at once.

Jason had stolen the sword from a mob boss in Beijing, and figured it was better with the little freak than it was with him. The dagger, he'd simply bought offline.

He'd partially only bought because he knew it'd piss Bruce off.

Damian leapt up from his spot by the fire and began performing several slices in the air. Stephanie immediately ducked to the side, rolling into Cassandra’s lap.

“Damian,  _ no _ ,” Bruce called, but the boy was already rushing to the cave.

* * *

 

Jason lit his cigarette. It was dark, but the patio lights were on behind him. The entire grounds were covered in thick snow.

He watched the smoke rise from his mouth, following the trail up to the night sky. It was easier to see the stars here, as it wasn't so close to the city.

With the way everyone acted around Jason, it was almost as if he hadn't had to kill them all several times. He  _ knew _ he didn't deserve this treatment, but God, he  _ wasn't _ going to fuck it up by moaning about it.

He'd needed a break. So, here he was, hiding from his problems.

_ They probably don't even want me here.  _ Jason thought.  _ I'm not welcome. I've literally tried to kill them so many fucking times and I treat them all like shit and I- _

Jason looked down at his feet.

A cold, white object hit his head, followed by giddy laughter.

“You ready for round two?” Dick said, scooping up a snow ball and throwing it at Jason's chest. He missed.

“Yeah, I can't wait to win again,” Jason taunted, as he ducked and rolled into the snow, grinning as he created his own snowball.

The glass doors to the manor flung open, as Tim ran out, followed by a yelling Damian brandishing his sword. The rest of the family began piling out the glass doors, clad in scarves, hats and gloves.

Jason heard the protest and yells of Tim, as Damian flew past carrying a chunk of snow above his head. Jason was  _ almost _ glad that he'd ditched the sword for a less violent form of violence. Dick was trying desperately to stop Damian from murdering his brother.

Bruce remained by the door, with Alfred and Selina.

Jason watched the woman move forward with a sly smile. She picked up a handful of snow, presented it in her arm and said: “Loosen up,” as she launched it at his chest.

Snow was flying, as Cass leapt around the yard, pummelling her unsuspecting siblings with snowballs before they could even realise who the culprit was.

The onslaught of snow continued, accompanied by the occasional “Stop running, Drake!”, “ _ Fuck _ !” and “ _ Argh _ , right in my tit!”

(The latter was from Steph.)

A collective mix of laughter and curses filled the night air, as a large hill of snow had been claimed by Tim and Damian - who were apparently working together now, which surprised Jason immensely - and were both pelting snowballs at anyone who tried to reach the top. Stephanie had failed several times already.

“Jason!” Stephanie exclaimed, as she shielded her face from Damian's snow. “Help me out a little?”

“Sorry, blondie.” Jason called over his shoulder, ducking as Dick’s snowball flew past his head. “I'm a little occupied right now.”

Cass sped past, managing to throw a snowball at Jason's back and Stephanie's torso within several seconds, then disappear. “ _ Babe _ ,” Stephanie called, her arms outstretched towards Cass as Damian threw snow at her side. Cass paused, turning to address Steph. “Help me. I must breach their walls.” 

Cassandra pouted, exaggerating with drooped shoulders. “ _ Fine _ ,” she sang, as she propelled some snow at the back of Damian's head. Jason watched the whole ordeal with a grin while Damian spun around and Cassandra darted to the side, out of his vision. She leapt to the top, and with a roar of victory, heaved both the boys off.

Stephanie hooted with victory, her arms flailing wildly.

“No fair,” Tim called from his spot on the ground, wiping snow from his jeans. “You got your girlfriend involved because you knew she'd beat our asses.”

“Exactly!” Stephanie laughed, standing proudly on her conquered hill.

Jason began creating a mound of snow, using it to duck behind as Bruce started throwing snowballs when his children weren't looking, secretly making hits then vanishing. With a snarl, Jason gathered as much snow as he could, then advanced towards Bruce who was attempting to land a solid hit on the woman who Jason had discovered as Selina.

She spun to the side, Bruce proceeding to skid past her, as Selina used her hand to throw snow in his face. Bruce spat it out, chuckling - until Jason performed his new signature move during a snowball fight; which was to dump a huge pile of snow on his opponent.

Bruce immediately swore, shaking his shoulders.

“ _ Language _ !” Several of the kids shrieked.

Alfred crossed his arms. “Watch your mouth, Master Bruce,” he warned with a thin smile. A couple of teasing “ _ oohs _ ” followed, until Bruce cast a menacing glare across the yard. Silence fell.

Bruce swallowed, then he shook his head, smiling. “You got me good there, Jason,” Bruce admitted, pointing an index finger at his second eldest.

Jason planted his hands on his hips with a cocky grin. “Like it's hard?” 

The whole scenario reminded Jason of a time where he returned to Gotham, after,  _ well _ , returning from the dead.

“It's freezing,” Selina shivered, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Bruce looked to her with a faint smile - and honestly, this was the most Jason had seen Bruce smile in like, ever - as he called to Alfred to add more wood to the fire. The two made their way inside.

Jason observed the pile that Tim and Damian had claimed once again, and at the heap of giggles that was Stephanie laying at the base of it in defeat. He began to make his way over, until --

A heavy force plowed into Jason's side.

He flew into the snow, as Dick’s laughter erupted in his face. A weight fell from his torso as Dick flung himself to the side, beside Jason.

Jason exhaled heavily, unable to suppress the smile on his face as he looked up at the stars. “Fuck you.” He breathed out, his arms extended to his sides in the snow.

“I think I won.” Dick said, spreading his arms and legs out.

“No, you didn't. You can't just tackle someone to the floor and say you won.”

“I can. ‘Cause I won.”

Shuffling sounded beside Jason, as Stephanie and Cassandra skidded down to Jason's level to lay next to him, both giggling.

Cass immediately began moving her arms and legs in an awkward manner, until Stephanie threw an arm over her waist. “No, no, no. You gotta do it like this.” She informed her, as Steph moved away from Cass and demonstrated making a snow angel. Cass followed suit, and soon Dick, Cass and Steph were all creating snow angels, looking like a bunch of fucking idiots.

Jason sighed, despite the warm feeling that had settled in his chest. “God, if you're up there, kill me now.”

“Stop being a killjoy and make a snow angel.” Dick ordered, twisting his head to send Jason a disappointed look.

Damian appeared above Jason and Dick’s head, his arms crossed and legs wide. “You all look ridiculous.” He informed the four.

“Yeah, you say that, but,” Dick started, before he grabbed Damian's ankle and dragged him to the snow, “you're down here with us!” He maneuvered the boy next to him, despite Damian's threats and grunts as he tried to escape Dick’s grasps with several kicks.

“Unhand me! I do not wish to partake in th-”

“Shut up, squirt,” Jason interrupted, chucking a pile of snow over Dick at his younger brother.

“Get over here, Timbo,” Stephanie called, raising her arm in the air to gesture for Tim. Her and Cass had  _ finally _ stopped making their snow angels. “Come be a cool kid and lay in the snow with us.”

“How could I say no?” Tim asked dryly, reluctantly trudging to the side of Stephanie and lowering himself to the floor.

The seven sat in silence, lying in the snow, watching the stars, and listening to the distant traffic of Gotham City. They probably looked really fucking weird - and their hideous Christmas sweaters didn't do them any good - but frankly, at the moment, Jason didn't care. It felt fucking good.

Jason was glad he came here, because he'd really been missing out.  Missing out on  _ this _ \- just hanging out with the people he cared about and people who cared about  _ him _ . Just being a  _ family _ .

Jason listened to the breathing of his siblings around him. A smile had rested on his lips without him realising it. The comfortable silence continued to envelope the Wayne Manor yard with a sense of tranquility, in contrast to the chaos that had ensued previously with the snowball fight.

“I'm cold.” Cassandra admitted, breaking the silence.

“You're weak.” Jason teased, despite him feeling quite cold himself.

Stephanie nudged herself closer to Cassandra, wrapping her hand around Cass’ forearm. “Don't worry,  _ I’ll _ keep you warm,” Steph promised, planting a sloppy kiss on Cass’ cheek.

A groan sounded from the other side of the line. “ _ Grayson _ !” Damian yelled, his arm flying into the air to point at the two. “They're doing it again!”

“Shut up, you rat,” Stephanie began, bracing herself up on her elbows to glare at Damian. “Do you  _ want _ Cass to freeze to death?”

“Can we just enjoy this  _ one thing  _ without starting an argument?” Tim complained, appearing behind Stephanie’s shoulder. “It's Christmas, after all.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, patting Damian back into the snow. Stephanie and Tim fell back into their respective indents. “Think of how Jesus would feel about you fighting on his birthday.”

“I'm glad you came, Jason.” Cassandra suddenly said, her hand finding his in the snow. 

Stephanie nodded. “Same. We'd probably be singing carols around the piano right now if you hadn't turned up.” She admitted. “Bruce doesn't know how to act in a social situation that doesn't involve a bunch of snobby rich people.”

Cass and Tim laughed.

“I know, right. Christmas would've really fuckin’ sucked without you.” Tim agreed. “Like, minus all the gifts, though - they didn't suck.” He added.

“Oh, don't you start, too.” Jason complained, dragging his free hand down his face.

“I'm afraid to admit it, but I agree with Drake. The amount of snow you dumped on Father was impressive.”

Jason groaned quietly, because he felt like everyone was gonna chip in their own little piece. Still, he thanked Damian nonetheless, without forgetting to regard him as a  _ brat _ .

“I don't think anyone else would've landed that dump on Bruce,” Dick said, looking at Jason as he spoke.

“Probably because he  _ let _ me,” Jason replied quietly.

Dick shrugged. He breathed out, then awkwardly flung his arm over Jason's chest in some kind of hug. “Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“ _ Don't _ .” Jason softly said, but Cassandra had already climbed onto the other side of Jason's body. Another weight settled over him, as a strand of blonde hair flew into Jason's mouth. He spat it out in disgust.

“Happy birthday, Jesus!” Tim yelled, as Jason heard approaching footsteps. God, he'd moved back to make a runway.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Jason sighed, as Tim landed atop Stephanie. Several groans sounded from the heap.

“I regret going at the bottom.” Dick wheezed, his elbow digging into Jason's ribs.

“You can't fucking complain.  _ You're _ the one who started this.”

“It was in the name of Christmas.” Dick said, defending himself. “You coming on, Dami?” Dick asked, attempting to peer around at him.

A bright flash met Jason's gaze. “Sorry, I was just taking some pictures for future reference.” He laughed, before heaving himself up onto the pile.

“Oh! Send me them!” Stephanie yelled, attempting to wave her arm to gain Damian's attention. 

“Ouch, Damian, your knee’s right in my fucking back,” Tim winced.

“I know,” Damian said, before he crossed his legs and sat upon the tower of his siblings. “I like this. If Father were to come out, it would appear that I slaughtered you all and created a throne out of your corpses.”

“How morbid.” Cassandra commented.

“That didn't sound very Christmas-y to me, Damian.” Jason remarked. He wiggled his fingers, attempting to get some movement into them as they were pinned between his and Dick’s body.

“ _ Tt _ .” Damian shuffled on top of his mound. “Would you like me to decorate the corpse throne with Christmas lights?”

“Much better.”

His siblings wiggled on top of him, as Jason looked up at the sky. “It's snowing.” Jason informed the five, as he was the only one apart from Damian who wasn't lying on their back.

“Is it?” Stephanie asked, attempting to glance up. She earned a disgruntled grunt from Tim. “Nevermind. I'll have to take your word for it.”

If Jason thought the group had looked odd earlier when they were simply lying on the ground, he wondered what the looked like  _ now _ . A huge chunk of bodies piled together, with wild limbs protruding from the edges, with some demon child sitting on the top.

_ Jesus _ .

“I'm not cold anymore, by the way.” Cassandra informed the others, speaking into Jason's chest.

“At least  _ you're _ happy.” Tim inputted.

Snow continued to fall lightly. “I guess this isn't such a bad way to go.” Jason reflected. “Here lies Jason Todd ( _ again _ ): Crushed by his siblings on Christmas Day.”

“This is our collective Christmas gift to you; a crushed lung.” Stephanie said, laughing afterwards.

“Gee, thanks,” 

“You know what we should do?” Dick asked, propping his chin into Jason's shoulder.

“What?” A voice answered. Jason wasn't entirely sure who.

“Sing a song. A Christmas song.”

“No.”

“Come on! I'll start:  _ I don't want a lot for Christmas, _ ”

“Please, don't.”

“ _ There is just one thing I need _ ,” Jason belted out, joining Dick in his now-duet.

“Don't encourage him, Todd.”

“ _ I don't care about the presents _ ,” Stephanie began, singing loudly to drown out Damian's complaints.

“ _ Underneath the Christmas tree _ !” The singing trio yelled, soon joined by Cass and Tim halfway through.

“This is ridiculous. You all sound ridiculous.”

“ _ Make my wish come tru-ooooooh-ue, _ ”

“I'll go and get Father.”

“ _ All I want for Christmas is…” _

The group paused, waiting expectantly, each with a grin on their faces.

Damian sighed in defeat. “You.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes i kind of forgot about this lmao?? anyways happy late holidays and new year!!


End file.
